Ronald Weasley Tells a Lie
by aBoyWillDo
Summary: Ron plots to get Hermione alone. Rated in anticipation of future chapters. Currently on hiatus.
1. Hermione's Arrival

**Chapter 1**

"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione called. "Ginny? Ron?"

"Why am I third?" her boyfriend replied from the kitchen of the Burrow.

"Because they're usually downstairs and you're upstairs with Harry. Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen."

"Why are they all go-" Hermione started as she walked through the kitchen doorway. "What in the name of Alphabetization is going on here?"

Ron, sauce splattered, turned sheepishly away from the stove. A frying pan of noodles boiled over on the back burner next to the sauce, and meatballs rolled around in a bottom of a kettle. He helplessly held a spatula and a spoon. Hermione laughed, marched across the room, and took over.

"Ron… why?"

"Well, I heard that women like it when men cook for them. And I wanted to surprise you," Ron shrugged, half expecting to be reprimanded for blindly rushing into something completely unprepared. There wasn't a cookbook or even a scrawled note of a recipe.

"I'm surprised all right. Why isn't anyone else home? I've never seen the Burrow this empty."

"Ginny's visiting Luna; Mum and Dad are on vacation still. Harry won't be here for another 3 days," Ron explained.

Hermione turned suspiciously away from the stove, where she had miraculously saved dinner. "And your parents are okay with this? Just us here?"

"Well," Ron admitted, "they don't exactly know. I kind of told them that you'd get here the same day as Harry. Then when they find out that you've been here for days, I'm going to say that I didn't realize I sent you a different date."

" Ronald Bilius Weasley. I can't believe you lied to me and your parents." Her chastising carried no weight as she smiled when she said it. "Dinner's done."

Ron wiped his face with towel while Hermione dished out the spaghetti. They sat side by side at the large table to eat.

"Not bad," Ron complimented Hermione, "considering what I gave you to start with."

"It was very nice of you, Ron, to make dinner for me. Thank you."

"I…you're welcome," Ron blushed.

Despite their pleasant comments, dinner tasted rather awful. Hermione had tried to salvage the meal, but the sauce was watery, the noodles were overcooked, and the meatballs were burned on one side. It took them quite awhile to clean the catastrophe in the kitchen, and by the time they were finished, it was rather late.

"I'll help you get your stuff upstairs," Ron offered awkwardly in the empty kitchen.

"Thanks."

"I missed you all summer," Ron whispered as he hugged Hermione outside Ginny's room.

Using Ron's shoulders for balance, she tip-toed to kiss him. He pulled her closer with one hand on the small of her back and one on the back of her neck and bit back a groan as she shifted against him. They kissed with the impatience of two people who had been apart for two months and then had a dinner-disaster to contend with. Ron slid a hand down to rest on her bottom. She made no motion of protest but broke apart a few seconds later.

"Good night, Ron," she said as she disappeared into the bedroom.

Chapter 2 coming soon, hopefully.


	2. Good morning?

**Chapter 2**

Ron awoke early in the morning tossing and turning. Their goodnight kiss infected his dreams. He desperately wanted Hermione's warmth against him as he shivered, staring murderously at the blankets carelessly kicked to the floor. He went over every good-morning scenario he could think of. They had 2 ½ days alone together, and he wanted to make the most of every second. He strained his ears listening for a sign of life. The lack of sensory stimulation lulled him back to a restless sleep.

He awoke with a start as his bedroom door creaked open. Hermione poked her head in.

"I knocked, but you didn't answer," she said. He gave her a lazy smile.

"You can come in."

She stepped into the room, already dressed for the day in snug jeans and a fitted pink top. He sat up and the Viktor Krum sheets fell to his waist. She didn't react to the sight of his naked chest, but he saw her subtle appraising glance. She walked straight across the room, sat on the edge of his mattress, and kissed him. His eyes widened in surprised; he never would have dared to approach a still-in-bed Hermione. That would have been far too blatant for his shy self to handle.

He kissed her back and wound his fingers in her hair. He broke out in goosebumps as she placed her hands on his bare arms. She scooted to a better perch on the bed, bumping into Ron's leg. He hugged her tightly until she was leaning half-sprawled across him.

"This is so awkward," she said sitting up. "I came in to see if you wanted breakfast, and I, well I shouldn't have stayed. You're not decent, and we haven't." She moved to stand, but Ron grabbed her wrist.

"Don't go, please."

Hermione hesitated. Ron stood up, boxers slung low on his hips, and pulled her into a kiss. She hugged around his neck. Hands on her ass, he pressed against her. She groaned against his lips. Her hands slid down his chest.

_Not like this_, Ron thought desperately. _Not a throw ourselves at each other morning. I want it to be romantic. I want it to be sweet. I have two days. No need to rush._

He took a step backward and said, "I do think I want breakfast."

Hermione stared at him, her face a mix of surprise, disbelief, and hurt. Ron stared at her retreating back as she left the bedroom. _That did not go right_. He started to follow her but realized he was almost naked. Hastily he threw on the closest pair of pants before running after her. He found her on the couch with her nose buried in a book.

"Make your own breakfast," she told him, barely looking up.

"I'm sorry."

"Put a shirt on."

"Hermione, I didn't mean it that way."

"Put a shirt on."

"Let me explain. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings."

"Put a damn shirt on, Ron."

Ron walked back to his room, cursing the indelicate manner in which he extracted himself from Hermione's embrace.


	3. Hypocrisy and awkward

**Chapter 3**

Ron dressed, though he intended to stay in his room until he figured out how to fix things with Hermione. _I wish I understood women. _The longer he sat the more he decided that he was more angry than sorry. True, he hadn't meant to hurt Hermione that morning, but she was the one sitting in the living room being hypocritical and not letting him fix things.

He stormed out of his room and into the kitchen where he made himself a sandwich. He banged silverware around as he searched for a knife to spread his mustard and slammed the cabinet door once he had gotten his bread. He gulped down his noon-breakfast so quickly he almost choked. By the time he had finished cleaning up, he was absolutely fuming and incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

"Why?" he shouted as he flung himself into an armchair across from Hermione's perch on the sofa.

"Why what?" she responded tightly.

"Why do you always want to talk about our feelings until there's something I want to say or I want to talk about? I'm not good with feelings, Hermione. You know that. But now, there's something I want you to hear, and you won't bloody listen. Why aren't we talking?"

"Because you're yelling at me."

"Sorry," he said, lowering his voice.

"What is it that you are so desperate to tell me?"

"This morning I didn't do it right—"

"So you meant to push me away differently?"

"—No. Yes. I mean that's not what I was trying to do. I don't want ..progression.. with you to be that fast. I want to know that we want it not that we have no impulse control. I want it to be soft and sweet with time to remember every inch of you. When it's right."

Hermione set her book down and patted the cushion next to her. Ron crossed over to her, half expecting to be slapped.

"That is the most wonderful thing you have ever said." She thought about kissing him, but truth be told she was still a little miffed about his earlier rejection. There was an awkward tension between them. Each remembered the morning's, well, groping, but both had reasons for sitting apart.

"We didn't really get to talk last night. What'd you do this summer, Hermione?"

"I do Muggle home-schooling. My parents want me to be prepared if I decide I want to leave the Wizarding world."

"You go to school during your breaks from school?" Ron repeated incredulously, obviously repulsed by the idea.

"Well, yes. What do you do that's so much better, mister high and mighty?"

"I practice Quidditch and read mystery novels and mglrmns."

"I always knew you were secretly literate. I've seen you hiding in the back corner of the library. And you read mysteries and what?"

Ron looked sheepish as he answered, "Sappy Muggle romances."

Hermione giggled before she managed to control herself. "Please tell me you don't recycle romantic lines."

"Never. But they do expand my vocabulary of… lewd words and clever verbs."


	4. Touch and taste

Quotes from _Overexposed_ by Leslie Kelly. I don't own her characters either.

**Chapter 4**

"You mean I have to _touch_ that?" Ron asked, making a face.

"Yes, you have to touch it."

"But it's looks so gross and slimy."

"True. But if we're going to do this, you have to touch it."

"Can't you just do it?"

"Honestly! Ron, you won't learn anything if I do it for you."

"But it's _raw_."

"Oh, for Pete's sake. It has to be raw; we haven't cooked it yet. It's just chicken. Coat it in breadcrumbs and set it gently in the oil."

With a few more complains and some grease splatters, the rest of the cooking lesson went well. The pair enjoyed their fried chicken and discussed books, now that Ron's secret was out. The couple found that they had a similar taste in mysteries. Hermione pulled a copy of Agatha Christie's _And Then There Were None_ out of her bag for Ron to borrow; it was one of her favorites.

"Have anything I'd be interested in reading?" Hermione asked, nudging Ron with her elbow.

"I have a few by Beverly Connor. They're mysteries. I think you'd like them. There's a strong female lead character."

"I was thinking something a bit…steamier."

Ron blushed. He ran upstairs to his room to grab a book and took a deep breath on his way back to Hermione. Flipping to a random page Hermione started reading. Ron peered over her shoulder.

"_Did it make you want more? Did a glimpse make you hunger for a look…which in turn made you ravenous for a touch?"_

She flipped pages.

_Then he worked his way down her body, kissing, nibbling and licking off all those spots of cream he'd deposited on her earlier_.

"You don't want to cover me in cream filling, do you?" Hermione teased. Ron looked mortified as he shook his head.

"No. It's just a book," he whispered hoarsely.

"I was just kidding. You're adorable when you're embarrassed."

"I need something to drink. Do you want anything?"

"I'm fine, Ron. Thanks for asking."

Ron fought the urge to grab the book before retreating to the kitchen. He paced around the kitchen cursing himself for telling Hermione about the books. He took a deep breath. Two steps toward the living room and he turned around. _Adorable when I'm embarrassed_. _Couldn't we have awkward moments about something other than my reading material? What's her secret?_ Determined to get an answer to that question he returned to the living room.

"I really didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry,' Hermione apologized.

"Make it up to me. What's your dirty little secret?"

It was Hermione's turn to blush. She held the book up to hide her face. Ron took it and tossed it onto the table.

"You'll find out. When it's relevant."

"Not fair," Ron protested.

"Is it fair if I distract you?"

Hermione kissed his response from his lips. She wound her fingers in his hair and distracted like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't want to get carried away," Ron gasped as he took a breath.

"You're right. And it's late. I'll see you in the morning."

Ron stared as she walked up the stairs.


End file.
